


A Candle Shop and a Simple Ritual

by GrizzlyBear1710



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: 7DaysofClexa, Candle Shop AU, Candles, Clextober20, Day 2: Witches and Wishes, F/F, Halloween, Halloween Costumes, Rituals, Witches, Witches and Wishes, day2
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-14
Updated: 2020-10-14
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:01:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27007780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GrizzlyBear1710/pseuds/GrizzlyBear1710
Summary: “I’m sorry, O, I just don’t think ‘ritualistic candles’ exist,” Clarke said with a sigh.“I’m afraid you’re mistaken,” came that same voice from downstairs that now caused Clarke to stumble backwards in shock. Thankfully, she managed to not bump into any shelves, clutching her chest as she regained her composure.“Jesus, how do you keep doing that?” Clarke asked. Once again, the woman had managed to sidestep all the creaking floorboards and appear almost directly behind Clarke without her even noticing. Clarke could only assume that she knew the floors so well, she knew exactly which ones to avoid then she wouldn’t make any noise. There was no other explanation…unless she was able to just appear right next to Clarke. No, that was nonsense. Clarke wasn’t as naïve as Octavia; witches weren’t real.orThe au where Clarke and Octavia are helping Raven get over her cheating ex with a little help from a witchy ritual and Lexa works in a candle shop where they buy their supplies. Ever the skeptic, Clarke's going to take some convincing to believe in this hocus pocus everyone keeps going on about...
Relationships: Anya/Raven Reyes, Clarke Griffin/Lexa, Octavia Blake/Lincoln
Comments: 6
Kudos: 108





	A Candle Shop and a Simple Ritual

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so this turned out much longer than what I was expecting and that's 100% a common theme with the stuff I write:D As usual, drop me a comment to let me know what you think!

“Octavia, I really don’t think that we can help Raven get over Finn with some tips from that witch cult in your class,” Clarke argued, rolling her eyes at the naivety of her best friend.

“No, I’m willing to try anything! I like this witchy stuff,” Raven countered. Octavia clapped her hands together excitedly. They were sat around a small table in the library of their University, snacking on a family pack of crisps as they tapped keys on their separate laptops. It was their last year at Uni, and only a week until reading week, i.e. slack off doing any work and Halloween parties week. However, Raven had just caught her long-term boyfriend Finn cheating on her with another woman, and Raven was suffering. She was heartbroken. She’d turned to alcohol, partying, sleeping around, crying, everything, but nothing seemed to work. As her support bubble, Clarke and Octavia had been helping her through the whole ordeal. At this point, they could throw out ridiculous suggestions and Raven may be up for considering them. Honestly, Clarke thought jumping in a nearby lake in their clothes was as ridiculous as it could get. Well, until Octavia suggested a moonlight ritual she’d learned about from the group of self-proclaimed witches in one of her Psychology lectures. Still, Clarke had to be supportive of her friend, regardless of the extremes she seemed to go to.

“Alright, how do we prepare?” Clarke asked. Octavia grabbed her phone and began scrolling at an alarmingly fast speed.

“It’s actually fairly simple. I was expecting loads of like weird things, but it’s mostly just some candles and memorabilia and stuff,” said Octavia. She glanced up at her friends from her screen, noting that they were both paying rapt attention before she continued, “We need three candles, three pictures of the ex, and an important gift from him. Easy.”

“Well, I’ve easily got three pictures. The gift could be that necklace he made for me,” said Raven thoughtfully.

“Great! The ritual must be done on a full moon, which funnily enough, happens to fall on Halloween! Spooky!” Octavia added. Clarke let out a laugh at her friend’s face as she wiggled her eyebrows. Octavia’s phone pinged with a new message. Thankfully, the library was classed as a social study space, so noise was permitted. She read the message thoroughly before typing out her reply and returning her attention to the table with a huge smile.

“Who was that?” asked Clarke. Usually, Lincoln, her long-term boyfriend, would be the only person causing that reaction from the brunette.

“This girl in my psych class. One of the witches. She’s called Anya and she works at a local candle shop, so she’s sending me directions for when I go grab the candles,” Octavia explained. After a contemplative pause, she asked, “Is it crazy that I’m super excited about trying this?” Her phone pinged again.

“Nah I’m excited too. Even if it doesn’t work, it’ll be fun to try. Maybe we’ll even get into witchcraft ourselves,” said Raven. She wiggled her fingers in front of her like she was reading a crystal ball. Clarke was just glad it wasn’t only her who wasn’t taking this as seriously as Octavia seemed to be.

“Rae, I’ve already told you that these girls aren’t like typical witches or anything. They’re all about energy and spirituality. Healing and stuff. They’re actually really cool, and I think it’s more about inner peace and channelling energy into everyday activities and whatnot,” said Octavia while replying to the message.

“Wait, so no sacrifices and dancing around fires? What’s the point?” Raven quipped. Octavia barely paid attention, too focused on replying to Anya. Clarke gave a small chuckle at Raven’s remark.

“So, when are we going to this candle place?” Clarke redirected. This seemed to grab Octavia’s attention once again. She pulled a face like she was considering the question, then checked the time on her phone.

“I’ve got like forty minutes until my next class and the shop is only a ten-minute walk away, so we can go now,” said Octavia.

“I’m free for the rest of the day,” Raven added. Clarke was only back in class in two hours, so they all packed up the rest of their stuff and began making their way to the store. On the way, Octavia mentioned that Anya wasn’t working at the minute so they wouldn’t get to meet her just yet. She promised that they could at least meet one of the witches before they did their ritual and even Clarke had to admit that she was a little curious as to what these women were like.

Octavia navigated, following the directions on her phone, leading them down winding pathways and a few big roads until they came to a small row of stores akin to the ones down Knockturn Alley. There was a tattoo parlour, a hairdresser, a corner shop, a record shop, a dusty antique store, and the candle shop right at the end. It wasn’t what Clarke was expecting from the outside. Considering one of the workers was a literal witch, she was anticipating the store to look dark and dingy, maybe painted black and purple with smoky details framing the windows and front door. Instead, it was like a quaint bookstore, with a white exterior, large front bay window, and two doors – one for the entrance and the other for the exit. It was at least three storeys high and Clarke had no idea how that many candles could possibly exist.

Octavia seemed to read her mind as she said, “Oh, it also sells arts and crafts stuff as well as candles.” Clarke’s jaw dropped.

“And you didn’t think to mention that?” she practically squealed. As she was studying for her degree in art, Clarke was constantly enamoured by crafting shops, and in the small city her University was based, they were few and far between.

With a shrug, Octavia said, “I figured you’d like the surprise.”

They made their way inside. Octavia – typical as ever – strolled in like she owned the place, swinging the doors almost off their hinges. Raven walked in next, her eyes peeled and curious as she took in the sights of the shop. Clarke, on the other hand, was more tentative, stepping in quietly and hoping she could blend into the background while her friends sorted out buying the candles.

The first thing Clarke noticed as she walked in was the smell. It was completely overwhelming, but there wasn’t one scent she could identify as they were all merged. It smelled fresh, like a garden. It was like someone had collected the perfumes of all the world’s flowers and released them into the shop. She imagined it was a scent the workers never got used to, and if you were in here long enough, you’d probably get a headache from it. Unless you practiced meditation or whatever it is the witches do.

She looked up, immediately spotting the large, brown sign hanging above their heads. It read that art supplies were on the ground floor, candles on the first floor, and a clearance section on the second floor. The sign was rustic, and as Clarke looked around, she realised it mirrored the rest of the shop. There were shelves upon shelves of arts and crafts items: Easels, canvases, paints, pencils, paintbrushes, wool, knitting needles, pens, crochet kits, trinket boxes, books. Everything. If it wasn’t for the smell, Clarke would’ve believed that she’d transcended and gone to Heaven. The truth was that Clarke wasn’t the biggest fan of candles. She thought they were ridiculously overpriced, smelled like burning, and just weren’t practical. Not to mention they were huge fire risks. No, candles weren’t her thing.

She took in the rest of the room, noticing that it was rather narrow but went quite far back. There were shelves covering all four walls and even a set of what looked like large, second-hand bookshelves reaching up to the ceiling in the middle of the store. At the front was a large bay window, holding a window seat that had been decorated with cushions. She could imagine curling up in it with a sketchbook and pencil in hand while the rain poured down outside. It would be the perfect place for drawing with all the surrounding architecture of shops and the woodland in the distance, if it wasn’t for the smell that reminded Clarke of a public bathroom air freshener. She could only imagine that the scent got stronger upstairs where they kept all the candles.

“Clarke, we’re going to the first floor. Are you coming?” Raven asked. Both her and Octavia were already stood at the bottom of the narrow staircase. Raven had turned towards her to ask the question while Octavia skipped ahead.

“Um, I think I’ll stay down here and just check out the art stuff. I’ll come up later if you haven’t found anything,” Clarke replied. She didn’t want to be rude and admit that she was simply beginning to get a headache from the strong smell. The shop owner could be stood in the back room, listening as she insulted their shop. Raven gave her a small nod before disappearing after Octavia, and Clarke was left alone.

She took some time to look at all the separate shelves. She disregarded the things she didn’t need – sketchbooks (she always got those for Christmas and birthdays); pencils (she could open her own shop and sell her collection of them); paints (acrylics, watercolours, oils, you name them, she had them); and easels (a trusty one from her dad when she first started University). Naturally, her eyes were drawn to the canvases. They were mostly blank and new in varying shapes and sizes, but some had been painted on. In fact, if Clarke wasn’t mistaken, they looked like originals. There was certainly nothing there that she’d seen before anyway. Most of them were very intricate, paintings of people, landscapes, animals. It was all realism and it was beautiful. Clarke was particularly drawn to a detailed painting of a racoon with a red sash. It was odd but seemed fitting.

“Can I help you?” came a rather timid, and very unexpected voice, from the back of the room. Clarke jumped a mile into the air, only just managing to miss knocking possibly all the easels over. There was no light music or radio in the shop, and she couldn’t hear Raven or Octavia chatting on the floor above. God knows how she didn’t hear someone approaching her considering all the floorboards she’d walked on were creaky as hell.

Her heartrate still erratic, Clarke turned towards the source of the noise, immediately landing on a shop assistant stood in front of the counter wearing a rather guilty expression that Clarke could only assume wasn’t there a minute prior. However, what struck Clarke the most about the shop assistant was how beautiful she looked, almost other-worldly. She had chestnut brown locks, some braided off her face, cascading down past her shoulders and back. She was dressed casually, in a pair of black, ripped jeans at the knees, a grey, oversized hoodie, and blue denim jacket thrown over the top. Her jeans were rolled up at the bottom, a pair of black Vans completing the look, and Clarke could’ve sworn that she saw a small tattoo on her ankle, but she couldn’t be sure with the woman being a little far away.

Eventually, Clarke remembered how to speak, “No, sorry, I’m just looking, thank you.” She knew it sounded like she was rambling, but her lungs were still trying to come to terms with the fact that she was almost shocked out of her system.

“Okay, well, I’m here if you need anything,” said the woman. She walked around to the back of the counter and took a seat on what looked like a rather uncomfortable stool. Clarke returned to browsing the shelves but felt like she was being scrutinised by the shop assistant. There was nothing she hated more than the feeling of being watched when she was just browsing. However, every time she looked up at the counter, the woman wasn’t staring or even glancing at her. She seemed completely absorbed in the drawing she was doing. Still, Clarke didn’t like how quiet it was.

“My friends are upstairs looking at candles. They might need some help,” said Clarke. She was hoping this would help get rid of the heavy silence in the store and prompt the woman to leave her to browse freely. What she wasn’t expecting was for her to immediately brighten up and step down from her stool. It was odd. She wasn’t exactly smiling, but Clarke could see a change in her features, like maybe her eyes twinkled or her forehead relaxed a little. She couldn’t put a finger on it.

“Okay, I’ll just be upstairs if you need me,” said the woman pleasantly. She had a quiet voice, probably because she didn’t need to speak very loudly to be heard in such an empty, silent shop. Clarke gave her an appreciative nod, watching as she headed up the stairs. She noticed that the woman had good legs in her skinny jeans. They were toned like she worked out or maybe played football or something.

Once again, when the woman had disappeared, Clarke couldn’t hear anything from upstairs. It was like a sound barrier between the floors. She couldn’t even hear their footsteps and she knew for a fact that Raven was heavy-footed, more so since she had her leg brace fitted. After a short while, she turned to head up the staircase to see how her friends were getting on, preparing herself for the smell to get even more overwhelming.

Surprisingly, the scent remained the same regardless of floor. What was vastly different from downstairs was the large expanse of candles on display. Clarke estimated that there must’ve been thousands if not more, all stacked on shelves that ran like bookshelves in a library, snaking around the whole room. They varied in size, shape, scent and even use. Some were used exclusively for certain rooms while others were for everyday use or even just as decoration. There were even packs of two, three, four and up to ten candles mounted on display, but none were lit. She spotted her two friends down one of the middle aisles, each holding up two candles and looking like they were in the middle of a debate.

“I think we should choose these because they look spookier,” Raven argued. She was holding one that was chunky and dark purple and another the same size but black.

“Yes, but Rae, this isn’t about which ones are ‘spookier,’ it’s about which ones will work for the ritual and these ones say for ritualistic purposes,” Octavia countered. She was holding two that were the same colour green but in some type of candleholder with a thick base.

“That can’t be a thing. Ritualistic candles? That’s a joke, right?” asked Clarke sceptically. She stood beside them, her hands on her hips as she inspected what they were both holding. Octavia shifted a little in place, frustrated that her friend was unwilling to be open-minded. As she did, the floorboards creaked beneath her feet.

“Lexa’s gone to get us some candles for ritualistic purposes. Apparently, they have loads more in the back but hardly anyone buys them,” said Octavia. Clarke put two-and-two together, assuming that Lexa was the shopkeeper she’d interacted with earlier.

“I’m sorry, O, I just don’t think ‘ritualistic candles’ exist,” Clarke said with a sigh.

“I’m afraid you’re mistaken,” came that same voice from downstairs that now caused Clarke to stumble backwards in shock. Thankfully, she managed to not bump into any shelves, clutching her chest as she regained her composure.

“Jesus, how do you keep doing that?” Clarke asked. Once again, the woman had managed to sidestep all the creaking floorboards and appear almost directly behind Clarke without her even noticing. Clarke could only assume that she knew the floors so well, she knew exactly which ones to avoid then she wouldn’t make any noise. There was no other explanation…unless she was able to just appear right next to Clarke. No, that was nonsense. Clarke wasn’t as naïve as Octavia; witches weren’t real.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you jump,” said Lexa, an apologetic look on her face. Again, Clarke wasn’t sure what it was about her expression that made her look apologetic, but it was just there, like she could sense it, feel it maybe. Lexa turned her attention back to Clarke’s other friends as she offered the huge cardboard box to them, “There’s loads in here, so take your pick of these candles. Rituals and stuff aren’t really my forte, but if you have any questions, I’ll try my best to answer them.” Octavia gratefully accepted the box, but almost dropped it when she managed to grab hold. “Allow me,” Lexa offered. She took it back, effortlessly carrying it over to the table Clarke hadn’t noticed. It was just in front of the bay window, flanked by a small, worn sofa.

“Thanks, that’s heavy,” said Octavia. As Lexa placed the box down gently, she smiled. It was a proper smile. Easy and a little lop-sided, like a half smile, but it was definitely a smile.

“Well, when you’ve worked in the candle business as long as I have, lugging these boxes around just becomes part of the job,” said Lexa. Octavia slumped down onto the sofa, pulling apart the flaps of the box to look inside.

“How long have you worked here?” Octavia asked conversationally.

“Since I started Uni here, so three years,” said Lexa.

“Do you know Anya?” Octavia questioned. Raven took a seat beside Octavia, leaving no room for Clarke to sit down on the sofa. She guessed she’d just stand then. Lexa’s smile broadened at the question.

“Anya’s my cousin,” she replied. After a beat, she added, “I’m sorry. I never asked your names.”

“Oh, I’m Octavia. Anya’s in my psychology class and told me to come here to get some candles,” Octavia began, and Lexa nodded.

Raven was next, “Raven, and I don’t know Anya because I do Engineering, but we’re here because we need the candles then I can get rid of my ex-boyfriend.” Instead of nodding, Lexa’s expression faltered to one of concern.

“You’re not going to use the candles to…set him on fire or anything are you?” she questioned.

Octavia let out a hearty laugh as Raven explained, “Oh, no, no! It’s just for a ritual thing, like cleansing him from my mind or whatever.” Octavia looked milliseconds away from correcting Raven on exactly what the ritual entailed, but thought better of it, allowing Lexa to laugh along with the misunderstanding. She had a quiet laugh and Clarke thought it was clear the woman didn’t laugh much. She was shy, ensuring that she laughed with her lips mostly closed.

Lexa turned to Clarke next, “And you are...?”

“Clarke. I also don’t know Anya, and I do Art, so not Engineering or Psychology, and honestly, I’m just here for the ride.”

“What art course do you do?” Lexa asked. Perplexed, Clarke widened her eyes. She wasn’t expecting a follow-up question about her course when no one else had gotten one.

“Oh, uh, just art. Normal art,” said Clarke, realising she sounded like a complete idiot. Lexa nodded appreciatively, a small smile playing on her lips at Clarke’s muddled response.

“I was just asking because I do Fine Art and Art History,” said Lexa.

“Oh,” was all Clarke could manage because this had surprised her. Admittedly, she was being surprised by this woman far too often for her liking, but Lexa didn’t seem like the typical type of student in her classes. Usually, they were pretentious armchair experts that loved mentioning at every opportunity that they were studying art. Besides, if Lexa was in her third year, studying something similar to herself, shouldn’t she have seen her around? There was no way she’d not remember meeting someone as stunning as Lexa before.

Clarke was shook from her thoughts when Octavia began placing all the big candles on the table to inspect them. Lexa clasped her hands behind her back before she turned to walk back down the stairs. Once again, Clarke was drawn to her retreating figure and she couldn’t place why. Sure, the woman was attractive, but there was something about her that was magnetic. Clarke just couldn’t put her finger on it.

This time, Clarke could hear Lexa approaching them. Her footsteps were clumsier, creaking nearly as many floorboards as the rest of them. When Clarke turned to face her, she understood why. The shopkeeper was carrying a small desk chair towards them. Eventually, she dropped it down beside Clarke, motioning for her to take a seat. Octavia and Raven were too busy once again debating the technicalities of spooky and ritualistic candles to notice the exchange. With the woman so up close to her, and the early afternoon sunlight shining directly onto her face, Clarke could appreciate how mesmerising Lexa’s eyes were. They were a magnificent shade of green, mirroring the colours of a forest in the middle of Summer.

“Oh, thank you. You didn’t have to,” said Clarke appreciatively. Lexa just offered her a nod as if she was saying it was no trouble. Clarke gave her a small smile. There was just something about this brunette.

“Are we any closer to a decision?” Lexa asked Octavia and Raven.

“Rae wants gothic looking candles, but I think we’re best sticking to ones for ritualistic purposes if we want them to work, right?” said Octavia. Lexa looked like a deer caught in headlights, earning a subtle chuckle from the blonde. Clearly, this was not Lexa’s strong point.

“Honestly, you’ve got the wrong shopkeeper for judgement calls like that,” she admitted, holding her hands up. There was a minute of contemplation before Lexa added, “Hold on, I might have something.” She rummaged through the cardboard box, pulling out candles and depositing them on the table, the floor, and surrounding shelves until she hit what she was looking for. “Now I’m not like Anya. I can’t just hand you the exact candles for witch rituals or whatever. She’s the expert on that stuff, but I think I may be able to lead you guys to a compromise.”

She brought out a dark purple and black marble-effect candle with a green wick on the top, standing in a black candleholder. Octavia’s eyes widened like she was trying to commit the thing to memory before it disappeared in front of her. When Clarke looked across at Raven, she was the same, completely enraptured by it. Honestly, Clarke didn’t get it. It was just a candle. Sure, it was a bit funky, but just a candle, nevertheless.

“So, as you can see, this is a candle for ritualistic purposes but it’s also gothic or spooky or whatever you said you wanted it to be,” said Lexa.

“It’s perfect,” said Raven in a faraway voice. Octavia accepted it from Lexa, cradling it like it was her most prized possession. Lexa gave a timid chuckle, rummaging into the box again.

“Here, we’ve got two more. You guys said you needed three, right?” said Lexa. She handed one to Raven who held it the same as Octavia, turning it carefully to appreciate it from every angle. Clarke was handed the third. She simply placed it back down on the table. She had no idea what she was meant to be looking for in a candle to help her friend and their ritual.

“These are perfect,” Octavia gushed. That twinkle was back in her eyes, Clarke could spot it immediately. It was the type of look that meant Octavia had her heart set on something, and once it was set, she was going for it – no matter the cost.

“Alright, what’s the damage?” asked Raven, setting the candle down on the table, not wanting to be like Octavia and get her hopes up prematurely. If they were too expensive, she’d have to leave them.

“Well, they’re two for twelve. We’ve never had anyone buy three before, so I’ll sell them to you for fifteen pounds. Five pounds per candle,” said Lexa.

“Deal!” said Octavia immediately, jumping up to shake the woman’s hand. Raven and Clarke didn’t even have time to consider whether they were too expensive.

“Okay, I’ll go set up the till downstairs. Just grab them and come and pay when you’re ready,” said Lexa. They all thanked her as she departed down the stairs, settling their attention on each other once again. Now that she was away from them, Clarke felt a little more at ease. Something about Lexa made her nervous. She was somehow always fumbling and awkward around her, mostly because she was intimidated by how attractive she was.

“Right,” said Octavia with a wide smile, “Let’s go buy these candles.”

Clarke felt bad that the woman carried a full box of specialist candles out for them and they’d made a mess of the table, so they all put them all away, leaving the box on top of the table for Lexa to put away later on. Then, Raven led the way downstairs with Octavia following. Clarke grabbed the desk chair she was sat on and began walking towards the staircase with it. As soon as she picked it up, she knew it was a bad idea. It was heavy, heavier than she had been anticipating. Still, she’d committed to it, so she heaved it up and struggled down the stairs with it. She could hear both Raven’s and Lexa’s voices, chatting probably about candles or the store as she began reaching the bottom few steps. When Octavia’s voice joined in, she knew she only had a few more steps to make, but the chair felt heavier than ever and her arms were screaming for her to stop.

She was moments away from her grip loosening, sending the chair crashing down the remaining few steps when she felt the chair go almost weightless. That was unbelievably weird. Until it was lifted from her by Lexa’s strong arms. Again, Clarke felt too close to her. Even encased by the smell of all the candles, Clarke managed to catch the scent of her perfume. Something sweet, but a little masculine. It was nice, though it made her a little dizzy.

“You should’ve just left this to me,” said Lexa, placing the chair safely down on the floor.

“You had the hard job of carrying it up the stairs,” Clarke countered.

Shrugging, Lexa argued, “It’s all part of the job now.” Clarke didn’t have a response for that, but she felt Lexa’s green eyes boring into her own like they were searching her soul. She felt her stomach flip. That was something that hadn’t happened for a while. She put it down to purely physical attraction. Lexa returned to the till and only then did Clarke realise that both Octavia and Raven were watching the whole interaction with amusement. That was never a good sign.

Octavia handed over a twenty-pound note as Lexa wrapped the candles with expert hands. She placed them all in a cute recyclable bag before handing five pounds change to Octavia. The receipt was printed off, placed in the bag, and then she passed the bag over the counter. Octavia thanked her with a bright smile, which Lexa returned – albeit a bit more timidly.

“I hope your ritual works,” said Lexa as they began walking to the door. The students let out laughs.

“Us too,” said Octavia. They reached the door, Raven the first to walk back outside. Octavia held on a second, turning back to Lexa, “I’ll tell Anya to let you know how it goes.” The shopkeeper smiled genuinely and warmly.

“I look forward to it,” said Lexa, giving them all a small wave as they left the shop into the crisp October air.

Both Raven and Clarke were awaiting Octavia’s return from her late lecture that same day. Clarke’s finished early, giving her plenty of time to change into her joggers and an oversized jumper before Octavia got back with their Chinese takeaway. Every Tuesday, they’d get the same takeaway from the same place, and sit and enjoy it in front of a film. It was the one night a week dedicated to the three flatmates. It didn’t matter if there was a party, a social event, any other occasion, Tuesdays were reserved for the trio. No exceptions. However, when Octavia burst through the door earlier than usual, takeaway bag in hand, clearly something was going on.

“We’ve got the wrong candles!” she practically growled.

“What? How?” asked Raven. The three moved around the small kitchen in perfect synchrony, each accustomed to their routine of either grabbing plates and cutlery, making drinks, or dishing out food.

“I was chatting to Anya at the end of our lecture and told her we’d already been to the shop and that Lexa helped us out,” Octavia began. Clarke’s stomach involuntarily flipped at the mention of the shopkeeper. The brunette continued, “Well, Anya told me that we should’ve waited until she was working so she could tell us exactly which candles would work best. Apparently, the ones used for ritualistic purposes are just rip-offs! They’re labelled that way to trick wannabe-witches with no expertise!”

“Wait, so Lexa tricked us?” Raven asked incredulously.

“Oh, no, no,” said Octavia, shaking her head vehemently, “She was none the wiser, according to Anya. Apparently, Lexa is a genius when it comes to candles, but is completely clueless when it comes to witchcraft. She thought she was helping us by giving us the ritual ones.” Clarke had to bite her tongue to stop herself from saying told you so that there were no such things as candles for ritualistic purposes, but this wasn’t the time.

“So, what do we do now?” asked Raven.

“Anya’s in tomorrow morning, so she’s going to sort out which candles we should have and one of us can go and pick them up. We can return the ones we bought today in exchange for those and we get six pounds back,” Octavia explained.

Cursing, Raven said, “Wednesdays are literally my busiest days. I’m in practical’s nine until five.”

“I’ve got a seminar then a football game in the afternoon tomorrow,” added Octavia. Both pairs of eyes landed on the blonde who’d remained silent the whole time. They looked at her expectantly until she sighed and rolled her eyes.

“Fine! I’ll go! But I’m not promising I’ll go at the ass crack of dawn. I want to get started on my assignment, so I’ll probably go after lunch,” said Clarke. Both Raven and Octavia looked at each other, grinning, before turning back to Clarke. She raised an eyebrow at them.

“I mean, I don’t know why you’re complaining. You’ll get to see your new favourite shopkeeper and candle enthusiast,” mocked Octavia.

“What are you guys talking about?” Clarke questioned. She tried schooling her expression into a neutral one, but there was a smile threatening to burst.

“Oh, come on, Clarke! It’s obvious you totally think she’s hot!” said Raven.

Clarke began shaking her head as Octavia added, “And she definitely had heart-eyes for you. I mean, it was kind of gross if I’m being honest!”

“That’s not even remotely true,” Clarke argued matter-of-factly.

“Oh, it one hundred per cent is,” said Raven. After a pause, Raven added, “I mean, she’s kinda hot. I wouldn’t kick her out of bed.”

“Rae!” Clarke chastised, but both Raven and Octavia just laughed.

The following day came, and Clarke got up early to get part of her assignment done. She made herself a small lunch then decided it was about time to get ready to go to the candle store. After hopping in the shower, she pulled on some cable knit tights, a huge jumper, and a cute pinafore. Maybe she was making more of an effort with her appearance in case Lexa was there, but who was to blame her? The woman was stunning, and Clarke wanted to impress her a little. She grabbed the bag of candles that were going back and headed out of the door.

It took her exactly five minutes to conclude that Octavia was much better at directions than she was. She had Google Maps open, but it seemed to be sending her down many random alleys that she didn’t recognise. When she turned down a passage that led to the same dodgy backstreet bar, she accepted defeat and rang Octavia. The woman picked up after a few rings.

“Hey, Clarke, what’s up?” asked Octavia. She sounded like she was eating something before her football game, and Clarke felt bad for interrupting her.

“I can’t find the shop,” Clarke whined.

“Where are you?”

“Down some weird alley with a pub.”

“Okay, I don’t know where that is,” said Octavia. After a beat of silence, she had a stroke of genius, “Alright. I think Anya’s still at the shop. I’ll pass your number onto her then she can ring you and direct you. She’ll know where you are.”

“Oh, this is such a mess!” said Clarke. She thanked Octavia profusely before hanging up, standing uselessly on the edge of the alley, waiting for a call from an unknown number. It took less than a few minutes before her phone started vibrating. She answered with a timid hello.

“This Clarke?” asked the woman through the phone.

“Yeah, I’m really sorry about this but thank you for helping to direct me,” said Clarke. She heard a bark of laughter on the line and wondered what it was she’d said that was funny.

“Oh, I’m not directing you. Lex is on her way to the shop from that way, so I’ve sent her on a rescue mission to find you. She’s less than five minutes away. See you in a bit,” said Anya. Before Clarke could respond, the woman had hung up on her. Clarke decided there and then that Anya would not be what she was expecting. Honestly, when she pictured Anya, she envisioned a woman with a short fringe, dressed in bright, random colours, and a Vegan or something. The picture of Anya now was completely different. Still, she was grateful that the woman was helping her in some way or another.

Thankfully, Clarke had to wait less than a few minutes before she spotted the familiar woman making her way down the alley. She was in the same pair of ripped jeans, a thick mustard jumper, and black bomber jacket. She looked really good. Clarke offered her a small wave, which Lexa returned. For the first time since they met yesterday, Lexa smirked.

“Wow, fancy seeing you here,” Lexa quipped, her smirk only growing as she got closer to the blonde.

“Don’t even start. This is so embarrassing,” said Clarke. Lexa just sniggered as they fell in step to walk towards the shop. Clarke couldn’t believe how close she was to the shop. It literally took them less than a minute or so to get there. She also couldn’t believe how easy the conversation flowed between them. It was nice and they arrived at the shop before either of them would’ve liked.

Bracing herself for the smell to engulf her senses, Clarke was pleasantly surprised when it didn’t seem as strong as she was expecting. It was much less prominent than the previous day. Both women walked in, alerting their presence to Anya with the tiny bell above the door. However, there was no sign of the woman. Lexa removed her bomber jacket, throwing it over the counter. Clarke tentatively placed the bag of candles beside Lexa’s coat, suddenly feeling nervous about being in the shop with just Lexa. Moments later, there were heavy footsteps thundering down the stairs and a woman Clarke was unfamiliar with appeared at the bottom. She had dirty blonde hair, long, and messy but in a stylish way. She was dressed in all black: Black jeans, black Doc Martins, black fitted t-shirt, and black leather jacket over the top. While Clarke was expecting a soft witch aesthetic, she actually got a hardcore biker girl vibe. She had strong features consisting of sharp lines and a cutting jawline, similar to Lexa’s.

“Ah, you must be Clarke,” said Anya. Clarke was seconds away from holding out her hand for the woman to shake, but she guessed at the last second that Anya wasn’t much of a hand-shaker. She was right.

“And I’m guessing you’re Anya,” Clarke replied.

“The one and only,” quipped the woman. At that very moment, something about Anya instantly reminded her of Raven. They didn’t look the same, but they acted somewhat similarly, but that also wasn’t it. Clarke couldn’t help but think how Anya and Raven would probably end up getting along famously. She could picture it, with them both jibing at each other and poking fun at the same things.

“Um, I’ve come to exchange the candles,” said Clarke, reaching up to scratch behind her neck.

“Well duh,” said Anya. Clarke could tell that the woman wasn’t being rude and that it was just in her nature to be quick-witted. It was clear that it was just her humour, but Clarke still appreciated it when Lexa chastised her for being unfriendly. Anya just snorted a laugh, rolling her eyes as she disappeared into the back room, seemingly for the candles. She returned mere seconds later with a paper bag filled with three more candles.

“Sorry for yesterday. I’m really not an expert on witch ritual candles,” said Lexa sheepishly.

“Me neither,” Clarke said, smiling at Lexa.

Tutting, Anya interrupted, “Amateurs. The pair of you.” She passed Clarke the bag while Lexa messed with the till, trying to process the exchange. After a minute or so, Lexa handed Clarke the six pounds in change.

“Thanks,” said Clarke to them both. She lingered on Lexa, exchanging what must’ve been dopey smiles because Anya sighed audibly, rolling her eyes once again. In fact, Clarke was fairly sure that the woman whispered something like ‘gay disasters’ under her breath.

Before Clarke could turn to exit shop, Anya added, “Oh, we put in another candle for free, to apologise for this one’s mistakes.” She bumped her hip against Lexa’s, swaying her sideways a little and Clarke chuckled.

“You really didn’t have to do that,” Clarke replied. She glanced into the bag, only then noticing the extra candle. There were three bright orange ones, all in a row in a shared candlestick holder. The extra one was forest green in a brown, small holder. Clarke thanked them once again before turning on her heel to head for the exit.

Just as she reached for the door handle, a familiar voice asked, “Won’t you want some help navigating yourself home?” Embarrassed for the second time that day, Clarke had to nod, allowing Lexa to grab her jacket before catching up with her.

They walked straight along the road in a direction Clarke hadn’t been before, but she trusted Lexa. Besides, the woman knew more about these streets than Clarke did anyway. They walked past a few small streets with some cute shops on them. A lot of the shoppers were elderly, meandering in and out of places like butchers, bakeries and banks. Each one nodded at them in greeting, which was nice. Usually, in student cities, the older people that lived there were sometimes resentful of being overrun by young people, so it was refreshing to see them smiling at her and Lexa. They turned onto a cobblestone road that seemed to lead to a main road. Clarke was quite sure that the main road was the one just beside their house. This was a much quicker route.

“So, Anya’s into her witchcraft and holistic healing stuff and you’re into your candles but aren’t a witch. That doesn’t sound right to me,” said Clarke conversationally. She glanced sideways, relishing in the smile she brought to Lexa’s pretty face.

“Just because we’re related doesn’t mean we have the same interests or beliefs. I mean, it’s interesting what she does, but it’s not for me,” Lexa replied.

“Why not?” asked Clarke. She was genuinely interested in what Lexa had to say. Witchcraft was so far from her own normal that it intrigued her.

“I just figure that it doesn’t exist. It’s nice that people like Anya have something to believe in, but I guess I just…don’t,” said Lexa thoughtfully. Clarke turned her face to look at her, noticing that it was clear that the woman had spent a lot of time considering witchcraft and her opinions on it. It was something that had never crossed Clarke’s mind before. After a beat, Lexa turned her face to meet Clarke’s eyes as she asked, “What about you? You seem cynical about witchy stuff.” Clarke let out a light laugh, considering her reply.

“I think it’s all just a bunch of hocus pocus!” she paused when she heard Lexa’s laugh ring out, free and cheerful. It made Clarke beam with pride before she continued, “Maybe it’s a placebo effect. If Raven believes this ritual will help her get over Finn, it will.”

“That’s a fair point. I’m guessing you don’t believe it’s going to work then,” said Lexa.

“I’d buy my own wand and broomstick if it did,” quipped Clarke, earning another belly laugh from the brunette.

“I’ll hold you to that,” Lexa replied. They reached the end of the cobblestone road and stopped. Lexa dug her hands into her pockets, turning to face the blonde. Her braided, wavy hair was flowing gently in the Autumnal breeze. Clarke also turned, coming face-to-face with the woman and feeling irritated with herself. She’d known Lexa for less than twenty-four hours, but she felt that she was already crushing on her, hard. She had no indication of whether the woman felt the same, but by the slight blush rising on her cheeks and the small comments from Anya, Octavia and Raven, Clarke couldn’t help but feel a little hopeful that the feeling may be mutual.

“Thank you for walking me here. I would’ve definitely gotten lost if I was left to my own devices,” said Clarke.

“Oh, if the ritual with Raven doesn’t work, bring her into the shop when Anya’s working. I have a feeling those two would get on,” said Lexa. Immediately, Clarke beamed, trying to stifle an embarrassing laugh.

“I was literally thinking the same thing as soon as I met Anya!” Clarke agreed. They shared a small laugh then looked back at each other.

It was strange. Clarke felt this almost magnetic pull to the woman, like they were tied together in some odd way. Whenever they had to part, Clarke searched through her mind for reasons to delay, to stay a little longer with Lexa. They barely knew each other, but Clarke felt that when she looked into those forest green eyes that they’d known each other for an eternity like those eyes could see into her soul. Clarke knew they had to part ways, but she found something else to ask to delay leaving.

“I mean, I can ask Rae and O if you and Anya can come to the ritual. You can see for yourself if it works, and it would be great having an expert witch on hand to guide us through it,” Clarke suggested. She shifted in place, feeling awkward in case Lexa thought it was a silly idea.

“I guess it could be fun. Besides, I can make you stick to your word about the wand and broomstick,” said Lexa. They shared another small laugh. “When are you doing it?”

“Halloween at midnight,” Clarke replied. Lexa raised her eyebrows as if to say ‘really?’

“Well, you ask Octavia and Raven, and I’ll ask Anya and we’ll see,” said Lexa.

“Great,” said Clarke enthusiastically. Once again, they shared a lingering look when a thought hit Clarke. “Oh! Let me get your number so I can let you know what they say,” Clarke added. Lexa chuckled, and they swapped numbers. After that, neither had any excuses to stay longer. Clarke wanted to lean into her and give her a hug, but she sensed that Lexa maybe wasn’t that sort of person, especially with her hands stuffed in her pockets. So, Clarke bid her goodbye and they were both on their ways.

Both Octavia and Raven thought inviting the other two was a great idea. Not to mention that Octavia’s boyfriend, Lincoln, was throwing a Halloween house party afterwards which both groups had been invited to separately. It sparked what some would call a wave of genius in Clarke, causing her to find an excuse to text Lexa back-and-forth for a while, even eating into the time spent watching her favourite weekly TV show with Raven and Octavia.

“Jeez Clarke. What are you two even talking about?” Raven asked when Clarke’s phone pinged for maybe the thousandth time that evening. Briefly, Clarke looked up from her phone, a broad smile on her face and that’s when both her housemates knew that she was smitten. No one had made Clarke smile at her phone that much.

“Oh, we’re just planning this costume idea,” said Clarke. Immediately, she reverted her attention back to her phone screen to continue typing. Both Octavia and Raven shared a look of disbelief.

Clearing her throat, Octavia said, “What is this costume idea then?” Apparently, this topic was interesting enough to force Clarke to put her phone down. Either that or she’d finished constructing her text to Lexa and was waiting for her response.

“Right, so, we’re obviously doing this witch ritual thing on Halloween, so I suggested that we all dress up as witches for the occasion for when we go to the party,” said Clarke, looking overly proud of herself. Octavia rolled her eyes but smiled despite herself.

On the night of Halloween, Clarke had never felt more nervous. They had just less than an hour before Lexa and Anya were due to arrive. Clarke hopped out of the shower only ten minutes ago, standing in front of her wardrobe in nothing but a towel. The two women were due to arrive at half eleven, giving Anya time to go over the expectations of the night and set up the candles. The housemates had started drinking an hour beforehand, ensuring they didn’t get too drunk to allow the candle firelight to get out of hand. Besides, Clarke was sure she’d need some liquid confidence.

Without warning, Octavia burst into the room, nearly causing Clarke to drop her towel. The woman was already dressed in her witch outfit. It consisted of a sheer, black long-sleeved top, black bralette underneath, tight black skirt, and over-the-knee black socks and heels. The only thing missing were their huge pointy hats that Anya and Lexa were bringing. She even had some cool makeup around her eyes, black branch-like strokes with eyeliner and black lipstick to finish off her look.

“Clarkey! What are you doing? You’re not even dressed?” said Octavia.

“You’re joking me!” came Raven’s voice from behind the door. Seconds later, the brunette waltzed in with the same makeup as Octavia. However, she was dressed slightly differently. She was in a lacy-style black bodysuit, black, slightly puffy skirt and red and black striped over-the-knee socks. Instead of black lipstick, she was wearing dark red. They both looked nice. Clarke just stood there like a deer in headlights, clutching her towel tightly across her chest.

“We’ve already picked out what you’re wearing! What are you waiting for?” Octavia questioned.

“I don’t know. Isn’t the dress a little…slutty?” Clarke asked, staring at the black number in her wardrobe.

“Duh, that’s the point,” quipped Raven. Clarke rolled her eyes, still debating whether she should put it on, but the reality was that she had no other choice. It was either this dress, making her look like a slutty witch, or a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, making her look…normal. The dress would have to do. She hid behind her divider in her room to get changed. When she came out and surveyed herself in the mirror, she still thought it was too much. The dress was tight at the top, exposing most of her cleavage, then it pulled her in at the waist and puffed out at the hips, reaching down just above her knee. Under it, she pulled on some cobweb tights, adding a slight bit of modesty to her outfit.

“Damn, Griffin. Lexa will be all over you in that,” said Octavia with a low whistle.

“Don’t,” Clarke warned, betraying her one with a laugh and a small blush raising to her cheeks. Octavia finalised her makeup, adding the same branchy lines around her eyes that the others had. Then, she added some dark purple lipstick and she was done. All Clarke had left to do was her hair. In a matter of ten minutes, she’d dried and curled her hair, leaving it in natural, beachy waves. She looked rather witchy, even if she did say so herself. Still, she jumped when she heard a knock at their door.

“I’ll get it!” shouted Octavia, leaping up from Clarke’s bed and running to the front door. Clarke felt her nerves skyrocket as soon as she heard Lexa’s voice greeting Octavia. “We’re all in Clarke’s room,” were the next words from Octavia that made Clarke feel sick. Her room wasn’t the tidiest and she was pretty sure she’d just thrown her pyjamas in the corner of the room when she’d gotten dressed that morning. However, she had no time to shift everything out of the way when Anya walked in, holding three witch hats, all matching black and huge.

“Happy Halloween and Witch Ritual day!” said Anya. She launched a hat at Raven and one at Clarke. Clarke’s eyes were trained on Raven though, awaiting her reaction. Her eyes almost went comically wide as she took in Anya. She was wearing a black playsuit with fishnet tights underneath, fishnet gloves and had green makeup around her eyes. Her hair was down and messy underneath her own pointy hat. She handed the last one to Octavia who positively beamed as she put it on.

There was very little room for another person to join, but Lexa managed to squeeze in the doorway. Her eyes roamed around the room before landing on Clarke, and Clarke could’ve sworn that her jaw dropped a little. Her lips at least parted in shock. But it was Clarke who was closer to having a heart attack. Lexa was in a modest, long-sleeved black dress with a slit up the leg. It had been cut at the bottom, making it look ragged like it had been pulled over twigs and through hedges. She even had a cute little cape on, but that wasn’t what Clarke was drawn to. Lexa’s eyes looked positively green, highlighted by the black, smoky eye makeup that made them pop. Her hair was braided beneath a huge pointy hat and Clarke’s mouth nearly went dry.

“You must be the famous Raven Reyes,” Anya’s voice interrupted Clarke from her thirst fest.

“The one and only,” Raven replied. She outstretched her arm, clasping hands with Anya as they shook. “A pleasure to meet you,” Raven added as they parted. Her eyes hadn’t left the witch since she walked in.

“The pleasure’s all mine,” Anya said, a trademark smirk on her face. From behind Anya, Octavia made a gagging face. Clarke tried stifling a giggle, covering her mouth with a hand. She glanced up as Lexa let out a chuckle. Both her and Clarke had called this interaction.

By five-to-midnight, the candles had been set up on the living room table, Raven’s necklace from Finn wrapped around them. They just had to wait until midnight to light the candles, then Raven could place the pictures over each of the flames with the help of two of her closest allies. As the pictures burned, so did all the pain. At least that was the idea. Raven was sat at the head of the table with a picture in her hand. On either side of her were Clarke and Octavia, both holding one of the other pictures. Anya was standing over them, ensuring that they were prepared for the ritual to begin while Lexa sat on the chair, a glass of whisky and coke in her hand. Clarke couldn’t help but think that the brunette seemed to just look at home in her house. It was an image Clarke could get used to.

At exactly midnight, Anya lit the three candles then stood back to allow the three girls space to start burning the pictures. Octavia went first. Hers was the picture Raven had first taken of Finn. Slowly, the fire engulfed the image until it was completely gone. Raven found it odd that she suddenly felt a little weight lifted off her shoulders as the picture was reduced to ashes. Clarke had the most recent photo of Finn in her hands. As soon as Octavia’s was gone, she held hers over the flame, watching as the corner of the photo caught on fire. She could start to understand why burning things could be of interest to the witches. Fire was fascinating in that regard. Once hers was done, Raven’s was next. Admittedly, it was the hardest to burn. It was her favourite picture of them together to signify the end/cremation of their relationship, allowing her to finally be able to move on. It was a nice picture. They were both stood at the top of Snowdon mountain with Finn at the front and Raven peeking out behind him. It was her favourite picture because she remembered how happy they were and that was obvious on their faces. Still, she knew what she had to do. Hesitantly, she held the final picture over the flame and watched as their happy faces turned to ash.

Maybe it was the ritual or maybe it was the alcohol, but Raven’s mood had taken a turn for the best. They’d all headed over to Lincoln’s place in their matching hats and witch attire. Raven had almost immediately downed her first shot as she crossed the threshold into the party and began dancing in the living room. Octavia had slung her arms around her boyfriend’s neck, pulling him in for a long kiss. Chuckling to herself at Raven’s antics, Anya joined her, bobbing her head to the music as Raven threw her arms around erratically, leaving Clarke and Lexa stood in the doorway alone. They headed into the kitchen, Lexa in front, giving Clarke ample time to appreciate the slit in her dress, showing off her toned and tanned leg. Her gaze remained on Lexa’s lower body, making it extremely obvious what she’d been doing when the woman turned to hand her a drink. Instead of outright denying it, Clarke just turned a reddish colour and knocked back most of her drink.

The kitchen was slightly quieter than the living room. It was small with a table set up for beer pong, the sink filled with water and apples for apple-bobbing, and a pin-the-tail on the werewolf game set up in the far corner. A few groups of people were hovering around each game with a couple making out against one of the counters. Lexa was facing her, her eyes wandering around the room, and Clarke noticed that Lexa was more of a quiet person, who preferred reading the room and watching people than engaging with them. Clarke’s focus dropped to her lips, wondering how they’d taste against hers if they were to make out like the other couples. Her attention flitted back up to her eyes when Lexa spoke.

“So, do you believe in magic, witchcraft and rituals now?” she asked. Clarke chuckled lightly, remembering what she’d said previously about what she’d do if she did believe in it.

Shaking her head, she said, “Not convinced me yet.”

Tutting, Lexa quipped, “Damn, I definitely shouldn’t have bought a wand and broomstick prematurely. Let’s hope they’ll let me return them.” This time, Clarke let out a loud laugh.

“Raven does seem happier though,” Clarke mused. From where they were stood, they could only just see into the living room. Octavia and Lincoln were nowhere to be seen but Raven stuck out like a sore thumb. She was jumping up and down, completely out of time to the music when she reached for Anya’s hands and began pulling her along. The woman was being more reserved in her dance moves until Raven intervened. Now she was forced to jump around with the brunette. After some deliberation, Clarke added, “But her happiness may have something to do with your cousin.” Clarke quirked an eyebrow, turning her full attention back to the woman beside her. Lexa pulled a face.

“Gross,” said Lexa.

“Well, it’s either that or witchcraft,” said Clarke. She managed to lean in closer to the brunette, hoping that Lexa would realise that she was trying to flirt. She’d had a bit to drink, so was feeling more confident. While Lexa was thinking of a response, Clarke then added, “Oh wait, she’s not put a spell on Raven or something, has she?” Lexa let out a loud laugh, subconsciously moving in closer to Clarke.

“Yeah, I really don’t think Anya can perform spells like that,” said Lexa. She still had a wide smile on her face and Clarke couldn’t comprehend how someone could look so beautiful. Her eyes were a vibrant green, contrasting nicely with the black makeup around her eyes. Perhaps if all witches looked like Lexa, she’d believe in magic.

Clarke had no idea what came over her, but seeing Lexa look so carefree just made that magnetic pull between them stronger. She didn’t even have to say a word. All she had to do was glance down at Lexa’s lips and the brunette got the message. She slid one hand around Clarke’s waist, pulling them closer until their lips brushed. Their kisses were soft and slow, appreciative. Each time she felt Lexa’s lips press against hers, she swore she felt sparks between them or like a spell had been put on her, keeping her wrapped up in the other woman. When they eventually pulled back for air, Clarke spotted that her dark purple lipstick had stained Lexa’s lips, so she reached up, gliding the pad of her thumb across the other woman’s lips. In less than a second, Lexa’s lips were crashing into hers again, this time, more hungrily. Clarke took a few steps backwards, her back finding the wall in the corner of the kitchen as Lexa’s hands grabbed at her hips. As she reached up to tangle her fingers in Lexa’s hair, feeling her tongue swipe across her lips, Clarke finally started believing in magic.


End file.
